


I Don't Know Who's Gonna Kiss You When I'm Gone (So I'm Gonna Love You Now)

by MagicInHerMadness



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Or Is It?, Smut, ginny and mike go on a date that isn't a date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicInHerMadness/pseuds/MagicInHerMadness
Summary: Mike asks Ginny to dinner to break the news. The evening doesn't go as he expects.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the 1x09 promo

Mike stares at his phone for what seems like an eternity. He knows what he wants to do (her contact is already selected; he just has to hit SEND), but his finger hesitates over the screen. And suddenly he's 16, holding the phone while sweat beads on his forehead and everything in him screams for him to calm down because she's just a girl. Except he's 37, and Ginny Baker is many things but "just a girl" doesn't describe her by any stretch of the definition. He shakes his head, reminds himself that he's just asking a friend to have dinner on an uneventful Thursday night, then hits SEND. She answers on the second ring. "Chinese or Italian?"

X

Ginny's used to their conversations starting like this. (Their mint chocolate vs dark chocolate debate lasted for nearly three hours and spilled over into the clubhouse. The results were inconclusive but sparked a myriad of food debates.) She rolls over onto her back and answers, "Mexican."

He laughs. "I was really hoping you'd say Chinese, Baker. I'm jonesing for egg rolls."

"What if we compromise and go somewhere like the Tin Roof."

"Greasy bar food is always a good compromise."

Ginny scoots off the bed. "Great. Who's going? I'm not sitting next to Stubbs this time. He eats like a pig."

"It's uh...just me tonight, Baker." Ginny's eyebrows rise. She's never heard him sound like this. She could almost swear that he's...nervous? But why would dinner make him nervous? Unless it's not just dinner... She shakes her head, makes herself dismiss the thought. "Well, and you."

He's definitely nervous.

X

Mike has never floundered like this with a woman. (He once talked a woman into a date after he rear-ended her in traffic. Smooth is just who he is.) He's holding the phone too hard as he waits for her response, and his stomach flops when she's quiet for too long. "I mean, I could call Blip if—"

"No!" She answers too quickly then and he's glad this isn't so one-sided. "You and me is fine. Great. Perfect. Just give me a little bit to get ready."

He smiles. "It's 8:30, rookie. You're not seriously in your pajamas, are you?"

She laughs, and Mike swears it'll be the sound that haunts him to the grave. And beyond that. He's willing to bet it's how angels laugh, that heaven's full of curly-haired brown-eyed girls who laugh at his corny jokes and sit with him during his ice baths. "It's my off day. Forgive me for relaxing, old man. Plus I recorded a whole season of _Intervention_ and it wasn't gonna watch itself."

He laughs. "Just make yourself pretty for me Baker. Pull out all the stops: hair, makeup, dress, heels, lingerie. The works."

She snorts. "Lots of demands from a man who made me pay for my own dinner the last time we went out."

"It was In and Out, and you were in your pajamas. I'd hardly call that going out."

X

Ginny's not sure where this conversation is headed. She's positive Mike's asking her out on a date, but he can't be. Can he? "So you're saying if I doll myself up, _the_ Mike Lawson will buy me dinner? Is a little leg and some lipstick the going rate for a date with Mike Lawson?"

"You can't afford the going rate, but I'll make an exception this one time. Plus drinks are on you so we might be playing a little fast and loose calling it a date." Ginny's not sure if it's a confirmation, but the butterflies in her stomach are indifferent to the semantics. She's already in her closet, looking at and rejecting everything.

"Well lucky me. Since you want me to pull out all the stops, I've gotta go so I can wash my hair, old man."

They say their shy goodbyes and Ginny takes a deep breath before she calls Cara. "Hey. Question: How do you know if it's a date or not?"

"Who said date, you or him?"

"I did, but he asked me to dinner first. I asked if it was a group thing and he said it wasn't, which doesn't make it a date because we've hung out just us before, but he said I should get dressed up. That makes it a date right?"

"I'm inclined to say yes, but walk me through it anyway. I can't send you out there uncovered, cadet."

Ginny laughs. "Okay so he asked if I wanted to go to dinner, and I asked who was going, and he said, 'Just me and you.' Which, again, is normal, but he was definitely nervous like this is different. But then he said that I was paying for drinks which makes it not a date right?"

"I wouldn't say that. Let's just make a gut call. Do you think this is a date?"

"Yes." She walked back to her room and sat on her bed. "Oh my god this is a date, Cara. What do I do?"

"I feel like be yourself is shitty advice but telling you not to be yourself is irresponsible. My general rule of thumb is a two-drink minimum and a four-drink maximum. Two drinks will get you loose and engaging. Four will get your pregnant."

Ginny laughs. "I expected you to be better at this."

"No one is good at this. Social media has destroyed the dating process. It's hard to ask someone to tell you about themselves when you've spent three hours combing through their Facebook, Gin. Just have a good time."

"Well shit I could have told myself that," Ginny replies. They talk a little while longer before Ginny gets off the phone and showers. When she gets out, she sets her damp hair with rollers then goes back to her closet. She finally finds an ancient black dress (it's so old that she's pretty sure she bought it to go out with Trevor) and holds it up to herself in the mirror. It's simple enough just in case she's wrong about this date, but dressy enough to turn Mike's head.

She puts on her lotion (a cinnamon and jasmine-scented body butter that she's caught Mike sniffing on her more than once) and a little perfume behind her ears (Chanel No 5) and on the nape of her neck so he smells it when he hugs her. She puts on a little mascara, and a little blush, then picks out a soft pink lipstick. When her hair is dry, she takes out the rollers, shakes it loose. She smiles at the mirror, thinking she hasn't seen this Ginny in so long. And Mike's never seen her. She's embarrassed by the tingle of anticipation that runs up her spine when she imagines the look he'll get.

X

Mike holds a black shirt and white one up before the mirror, wondering which one would be best for a date. Is it a date? He can't remember if they agreed to a date or not, only that Ginny was somewhere getting herself pretty for him. He wondered what color her dress would be, if she'd straighten her hair, what she'd smell like. Sometimes she wears this sweet, spicy lotion that he swears actually makes his vision blurry. He finally chooses the white shirt because Rachel always said he looked nice in white, that it made his skin look tanner and his eyes bluer. He throws the shirt in the dryer to get out the wrinkles then goes to the bathroom. He sets up his magnified mirror and gets his scissors then proceeds to neaten up his goatee just in case. He won't finish the thought, deciding that leaving it at just in case is best for everybody, especially since he's not sure how Ginny will take the news of him leaving.

He texts her that he'll be waiting with the most expensive beer he can order. She sends him back a laughing face that must be magic because it makes the sound of her laugh echo in his ears. He gets dressed, puts on a little of the Light Blue cologne that made Ginny tell him he smelled nice once, then leaves his house.

X

The waitress is a redheaded whisp of a girl with shining braces that make Mike unsure of her age. "Welcome to the Tin Roof? Can I get you something to drink?"

"Draft beer for me, and a Red's Apple Ale for my very late date," Mike replies.

The girl nods and writes his order down. "Any appetizers?"

Mike shakes his head. "I'll just wait until she gets here. She's one of those picky eaters. Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How do you know if it's a date? Like a real date as opposed to just an intimate dinner?"

"Did you ask her out?"

"Sort of. I asked if she wanted to get dinner, and she asked if it was a group thing—we work together—and when I said it wasn't, she called it a date."

"Did you tell her it wasn't?"

Mike shakes his head. "No."

"And that's because you want it to be a date, right?"

"Yeah."

"So you like her, and she's clearly feeling something for you if she brought up a date as soon as she found out it was just the two of you. Sounds like a date to me."

X

Ginny's running twenty minutes behind, partly because her uber was late, but mostly because she spent ten minutes second guessing her outfit. She climbs into the uber driver's SUV and gives him the address. "Can I ask you something?"

"I don't have a connection for anything stronger than weed," he replies immediately.

Ginny laughs. "That's not it but it's nice to know. I was gonna ask how you know if it's a date?"

"Is it just the two of you?"

"Yes."

"Are you nervous?"

"Understatement."

"Sounds like a date to me."

This makes her feel better but she's still on pins and needles for the rest of the 15-minute drive. When she gets to the Tin Roof, he offers her a stick of sweet mint gum, gives her a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror. "Go get 'em, slugger."

Ginny laughs as she gets out of the car and goes into the restaurant. It's a little empty, but it's a Thursday, and she spots Mike immediately. He stands up when he sees her and Ginny knows she's blushing by the time she reaches him.

X

Mike nods at the waitress and the sound of the door catches his attention. The waitress turns to look at Ginny then back to him. "Is that her?"

He nods again and she does too. "It's a date. Nobody looks that good for a random dinner with a friend."

He smiles at her as she leaves then looks back at Ginny. He had been joking when he told her to pull out all the stops, assuming his tomboy rookie didn't even own makeup, but there she was, even more beautiful than he thought possible. Ginny's the kind of girl who could stop traffic in sweatpants and he's thankful she doesn’t dress up very often because he makes an ass of himself very often in her presence and doesn't need her assistance to do so. "You clean up nice, rookie."

"You do too, old man. I can't believe you left your leather jacket at home for my benefit." She smiles. Mike smiles back, moves to pull out her chair, grinning at the top of her head when she laughs. "Well I'll be damned. You've got manners after all."

"Just for that, you have to order off the kid’s menu," he replies, reaching down to tweak her nose.

Ginny laughs and the waitress returns with their drinks. Ginny picks up her beer and smiles at him. "You remembered."

Mike smiles. "I'm a good date, Baker. Best some girls have ever had."

"Those poor girls."

"Ha ha ha. It's a shame you picked baseball over your promising career in stand up."

Ginny snorts, sips her beer. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of a dinner date with Mike Lawson?"

Mike smiles, shrugs. "Can't I just wanna hang out with you? A few months ago, you'd have been grateful for me to breathe in your direction."

"That was then. Now I know better," she replies. "So, what's up?"

He shrugs again. "Nothing. It's just that we don't really get to do stuff together anymore since the whole clubhouse is now the Ginny Baker fan club."

"Oh so you're jealous?" she teases with a smile. "Just wanna make sure you're still my number one guy?"

He smiles, blushes, looks down at the table, then looks at her again, quickly recovering that Mike Lawson smirk. "I'll always be your number one, rookie."

She laughs a little then reaches across the table, her expression serious. "You will be. You know that, right? No matter what happens. It's always you and me."

Mike frowns at her. "What's happening, Baker?"

She doesn't answer immediately, just makes circles on the back of his hand for a moment before she looks up at him. "I know. About Chicago."

He wants to be relieved. That monkey's been on his back since he told Oscar. He had told Blip, and Oscar had told Al. "How..."

He suspects Blip, or Evelyn because God knows Blip can't keep a secret from her. Ginny answers, "Al told me. He didn't think I'd take it well."

Mike barks a laugh. "Good old skip."

X

Ginny nods, sips her beer again, tries to find her words. Al had correctly pegged the situation. She hadn't taken it well, had cried for ten minutes in the solitude of his office while Al rubbed her back. When she was finished, he'd wiped her face with his handkerchief, told her they'd be okay. It was strangely comforting, reminding her of the first time she'd gotten beaned when she was 10 and her father had wiped her face and iced her bruise then taught her how to bean.

She finally looks up at Mike again. "Your teammates aren't ready for you to go."

It's only a little bit of a cop out. She's his teammate, and she not ready for him to go. And she's hoping he'll let her off the hook, but she knows she wouldn't let him off that easily if she was the one running. "What about you?"

She'd been expecting this question, if not from him then from Evelyn or Cara, both of whom had far too easy a time reading her. She sets down her beer, looks at him shyly. "I'm gonna miss you, Mike."

She rarely calls him Mike and the look that flits over his face tells her that he's surprised too. "I'm gonna miss you too, Gin."

She blinks hard, thinking that she's gonna be a mess at their last game together if a simple "I miss you" has her in tears. He reaches over and wipes at her eyes, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his calloused flesh. He gives a smile that doesn't reach his eyes but it helps if only because she knows he's trying. "I thought there was no crying in baseball, Baker."

She sniffs, wipes at her eyes. "This isn't baseball, Lawson. I'm losing my guy."

This time he holds her face in his hands, caresses her cheeks with his thumbs. And there's something not quite captain-like about the way he's looking at her. "You're not losing me. I'm always your guy."

She shakes her head. "But you won't be with me anymore. I don't wanna pitch to someone else, or think about somebody else pitching to you."

X

In that, she's not alone. The idea of Duarte pitching to her, of him becoming her guy, makes his stomach tight. And the sight of her with tears in her eyes doesn't help. He wipes her face (oh, how he'll miss that face) and gives her a crooked grin. "It won't be so bad. I promise. And I'm not gone yet. You've got me for a whole post-season."

She sniffs, seems to recover enough to mull over his words then sips her beer. "A whole post-season, huh?"

Mike nods. "I have no plans whatsoever so if you want, it can be all Baker all the time."

She finally laughs. "You can't handle all Baker all the time, but we're definitely going to Disneyland. And the beach. And Venice so we can rollerblade. And—"

Mike laughs, shakes his head. "I'm gonna regret this decision, aren't I?"

"Every day," she replies.

The waitress reappears and asks, "Ready to order?"

Ginny looks up at her with a smile. "Since he's buying, I will have two orders of the wonton tacos and one of the barbecue boneless wings. And one of those chocolate lava cakes but I'll take that to go."

She writes down the order then turns to Mike. "And for you?"

"Because I'm aware that things cost money, I'll have the bacon cheeseburger and fries," he replies, glancing over at Ginny with a smile.

"I'll get that right out." She walks away, leaving them alone again.

Mike sips his beer, turns his attention back to Ginny. "So, chocolate and fruit. Yes or no?"

She laughs, shakes her head. "We're not doing this, Lawson."

"It's a yes or no, Baker."

"No it's not. It depends completely on the fruit."

"Not necessarily."

"Yes necessarily. Chocolate and strawberries? Sure. Chocolate and raisins? Not so much."

Mike frowns. "Are raisins fruit?"

"I would say yes. They're dried fruit."

"Well yeah but when you want fruit, you don't go for the raisins."

She nods. "Yeah but that doesn't make them not fruit."

X

They spent the rest of their dinner that way, and Ginny could almost let herself believe things were normal. It wasn't as though he was leaving immediately, or that she'd never see him again. The start of the new season was months away. They'd make it.

"So on a scale of incredible to the best night of your life, how good was your first date with Mike Lawson?"

Ginny snorts. "Where does mediocre fall on that scale?"

Mike reaches over to tweak her nose. "You know, leaning over my car like this, you look like a hooker."

"Like you could afford me, old man.” Her phone dings with an alert just as a Prius parks in front of Mike's car. She gives him a smile. "That's my ride so I guess this is it for tonight."

Mike laughs. "You'll be seeing me in your dreams, rookie."

"You wish." She waves to him then walks over to her car and opens the back door.

"Ginny!" She turns and he's out of the car, walking over to her. He gives her a smile. "Can't let you leave without at least a hug. You'd probably spend the whole night crying on your poster of me."

Ginny smirks, wrinkling her nose, but answers, "You know me so well."

He envelopes her in a hug and Ginny presses her face in his neck, breathes in his heady scent. The off-season is long, but it might not be long enough for her to memorize everything she needs to keep him alive in her mind. What if she never gets this—being with him, being in his arms—back? He murmurs, "I meant what I said earlier. I'm gonna miss you, Ginny."

"I'm gonna miss you too, Mike." Her voice is muffled because she won't lift her face from his neck, won't stop breathing him in just yet. He lowers his face and their noses brush. It's new, and surprisingly electric, but quickly pales in comparison to his lips brushing her nose. For this, she'll leave his blessed warmth. She lifts her face and their lips brush so quickly that Ginny's not even sure it happens. Until Mike does it again, a whisper of a kiss that makes her pulse double time. She's sure he can feel it when his hands snake around her neck, his thumbs caressing the curves of her jaws.

"Baker?"

It takes her a moment to realize he's said something to her, whispered her name so softly that his breathe skitters over her still-puckered lips. "Yeah?"

"This is okay, right?"

This is a million things (namely the best thing that's happened to her since she got called up, and maybe better because for once the knot in her stomach has completely loosened and she's free), okay being the least of which. But her mind can't complete a thought, let alone articulate one, so she answers, "Yeah."

His mouth slants over hers, his certainty obvious, and Ginny holds his face, kisses him repeatedly to memorize his taste.

They kiss until the uber driver sheepishly clears his throat. "So, do you need me, miss?"

Ginny blushes, rubs the back of her neck, then looks at Mike. "Do I need him?"

He grins. "Do you think I'd really put out on the first date, Baker?"

"I'm surprised we made it through dinner," she replies then turns to the driver. "No thank you."

Mike gives him a twenty for his troubles and he leaves them standing in front of Mike's car. "So what now, rookie?"

Ginny smiles shyly. "We could go to your place and watch a movie...or not watch a movie."

"I could go for a movie."

They drive to his place holding hands, which really should feel strange with their callouses rubbing but Ginny can't think of anything that feels more right.

X

Mike watches Ginny kick off her shoes beside his front door. She tugs at the dress's side zipper as she walks to his bedroom. "Do you have a shirt I can borrow?"

He laughs as he follows her. "Oh, yeah. I thought you were about to take my innocence, Baker."

He follows her to his bedroom, goes into the closet and produces a gray long-sleeved shirt that she takes with a smile. "I get to Netflix and chill with _the_ Mike Lawson. Talk about a dear diary moment."

Mike laughs, tugs his t-shirt over his head and tosses it in the hamper. He smiles at the way Ginny's eyes drop to her lap. Her face still reddens when he kicks off his jeans even though she's not looking at him. "Something wrong, Baker?"

She looks up at him and he watches her accept his challenge. She stands. "I think I'll change in the bathroom."

Mike frowns as she brushes by him to go into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerges in his t-shirt, her dress bundled up in her hands. She tosses it onto his chair and climbs onto his bed, looks at him expectantly. Mike's got a beautiful house. The floor-to-ceiling windows, the open concept design, the pool... It's a dream. But it could be a hole in the ground as long as Ginny Baker's in his bed, smiling at him and wearing his t-shirt. "You gonna hang out there all night, old man?"

He joins her in bed, leaves an appropriate amount of space between them as he turns on the tv. He looks over at her. "Any preference?"

"Let's watch _About Last Night_ ," she replies.

"I've never seen it." He searches for the title and finds it, hits play.

X

Ginny's not sure how much of the movie she actually sees, just that she loses chunks of time each time Mike nuzzles her neck. She hisses when he bites her then licks away the sting. "I thought we were watching a movie, old man..."

He hums against her neck, still kissing. "Watch...tomorrow..."

Ginny almost objects but he's got her left nipple in her mouth, a sensation that's surprisingly incredible despite the thin cotton between his mouth and her hot flesh. She lays back on the pillows, succumbs to the blackness of pleasure. Her kisses are needy, feverish. She bites his bottom lip. His hands find her warm flesh under her t-shirt and she sits up so he can slip it off. She lifts her hips, helps him take off her little black panties (she wants to tell him to look, to see the lingerie she found for him, but she can't stop kissing him).

He pulls away and her mouth cries out at the loss even as her brain relishes the access to oxygen. And there's something intoxicating about looking at him look at her. He stiffens against her thigh and she reaches for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. Her hands move urgently, one stroking him wantonly and the other pulling his mouth back to hers. Mike groans as she licks her way inside. He reaches between her legs, his fingers exploring her slick folds.

"Mike," she hisses his name like a prayer as he thumbs her clit with just enough pleasure to make her want to crawl out of her skin.

X

Mike's had some beautiful moments in his life. When it's over, he'll be satisfied. And this—sliding inside Ginny's wet heat—is the moment that will play over and over. Her knees threaten to buckle and he grabs a fistful of her curls as they find an easy rhythm that makes her groan low. She pushes back, urges him deeper. Mike's always imagined she would be a talker but she seems incapable of a single syllable as he reaches between her legs, rolls her clit between his fingers. She mewls, pushes back harder. Mike lets go of her hair, grabs her hips to match her thrusts. Her pants turned into whispers then guttural groans, yes leaping from her lips over and over. He sucks on her neck, brands her like cattle. Her cries become frenzied as her body trembles beneath him. He kisses her shoulder, her neck, her jawline, anything his lips can reach. She shakes violently, her cries desperate as her body tenses. No, this is the sight that will play over and over. She's magnificently frozen for an instant that seems to go on forever, her eyes closed, her mouth open in a silent scream. She gasps back to life, whimpering yes over and over as she dies a thousand beautiful little deaths. There's a moment of unbearable tension—bordering on pain—before the levies break and his fingertips create small constellations of bruises on her hips. They collapse in a pile of limbs, their hips still rolling together.

Mike pulls her hair out of the way with his chin, kisses her as he pulls her close, rolling onto his side. Ginny shivers and he wraps his leg around her, tightens his hold on her. She yawns and he smiles against her neck. "Don't tell me you're tired, rookie?"

She turns to smirk at him. "I should be. I was doing all the work, old man."

"That's physically impossible. I was on top."

"Technically you were behind me, which is how I ended up doing all the work."

Mike bites her shoulder. "Shut up before I kick you out."

"If you kicked me out, who would make you midnight pancakes?"

Mike snorts. "I've seen you burn eggs, rookie. I'll pass."

Ginny reaches back and pinches his butt. "Okay so we'll order something. Bottom line, I'm not leaving."

Mike laughs, bites her jaw as he slips out of bed to go to the bathroom. "Whatever. FYI, I'm a sleep-cuddler. It's not personal so don't read into it."

"Oh wow that's so romantic," Ginny deadpans.

He's still laughing as he brings her the warm washcloth. "You put out on the first date. How much romance were you expecting?"

Ginny snorts, rolls her eyes. "Maybe I should have taken Robles up on his offer instead if this is the treatment I'm getting."

Mike grabs her ankle, pulls her to him and settles his weight on her. "What did you say?"

She smirks, quirks her eyebrows. "You heard me."

"Don't get his jaw broken, rookie. That would look really bad on my way out." He bites her bottom lip, hard enough to make her hiss.

"So jealous," she teases. Mike rolls off her, frowns at his skylight and Ginny laughs as she sits up beside him. "Are you pouting?"

"No," he huffs, even pokes out his bottom lip a little. He's definitely gonna milk this one.

She laughs. "Yes you are! Stop it!"

He turns his head away from her. "Don't know what you're talking about."

She keeps laughing, covers his face in kisses until he does too.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos/comment XOXOXOXO


End file.
